Why So Serious?
by Charles Xavier
Summary: Chaos threatens Italy when the girls are up against the psychotic criminal mastermind: the Joker. After one of their friends is taken as hostage, Henrietta and Triela are determined to bring her back alive.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own neither 'Gunslinger Girl' nor 'The Dark Knight', which belong to their rightful owners respectfully.

…

_**Why So Serious?**_

_**By Charles Xavier**_

…

**Part One**

…

_Ding-dong._

"_Who could that be?" said the father._

_It was rare to have visitors at the family's doorstep during Christmas, especially before they were to have a hearty dinner. The youngest child, however, didn't sense the slightest odd tingle. Quite ironically, she was leaping up and down on her chair as if she had already opened up all her presents._

"_It's Santa Claus!" she clapped her hands at the dinner table wildly. "He's really here, mommy! I told you he'd come!"_

"_Don't be silly!" said her older sister. "Santa doesn't ring on people's doors. He climbs down the chimney when you're asleep and leaves your presents under the Christmas tree!"_

_Ding-dong again._

"_That must be Claudia from next door." said the mother, folding her napkin. "I'll go and answer it. She said she needed to borrow some candles."_

"_Don't take too long, dear." said the father, opening a bottle of red wine. "We wouldn't want the food to get cold or have our kids starve to death on this freezing night."_

_The children chorused with laughter whilst the mother opened the door to greet her neighbor…until she realized that she had welcomed in an utter stranger that wasn't all so friendly. He was holding a SPAS-12 shotgun in his gloved hands, poking it at her belly. The mother's eyes dropped in shear terror. A single shot…and she collapsed on a glass coffee table, shattering it to pieces. The door burst open, letting in the winter's breeze that gave way for a group of masked thugs to storm the house. She could do nothing but writhe in pain with her bloodstained hands._

"_Mommy!" the children abandoned their seats and raced to her aid, but were stopped when the thugs grabbed them off their feet like teddy bears._

_The father grabbed the nearest knife on the table and attempted to stab one of the intruders, but was kicked in the jaw so hard that a tooth fell out. He tried reaching out for his helpless wife, who was forced to hear her children desperately crying out for her._

_The youngest child hurried underneath the sofa, hoping to evade capture. But she felt a pair of cold hands grab her delicate ankles and pull her back. She blindly kicked a thug in the face, crawling away in panic, but another one picked her up to prevent her escape. Struggling didn't make anything easier. Her eyes were fixed towards her father, on his bruised knees and begging for mercy._

"_Please…not my children!" he pleaded to the man with the colored face. "Take anything you want. But please, don't hurt my family anymore!"_

_The sloppy man wiped the dirt off from his purple jacket and straightened his tie, throwing aside the smoking shotgun he had recently fired. The cold-hearted look in his empty eyes was all the proof needed to show that he didn't give a shit about the father's words. He grabbed his jaw, sticking a knife into his mouth and whispering something into his ears. Glancing over at the grief-stricken children, at the bleeding mother stripped of her clothes, and finally to the frightened youngest child, he then said…_

"_Why so serious?"_

…

"Why so serious, Henrietta?" said Jose, offering her a piece of his cotton candy. "Relax. It's not every day you get to come out and see a circus performance."

Henrietta was bored sitting next to her handler. None of the acts amused her. Flying acrobats on their trapezes, standing elephants dancing in one line, lions and tigers jumping through fiery hoops, a poodle in a tutu doing a ridiculous dance…she found no charm in them at all. Kids screamed demanding for more, waving their shiny balloons and smiling with popcorn stuck in their teeth. Yet behind all the youthful cheers and laughter, Henrietta alone remained silent. Jose was starting to feel bad about bringing her here. He had hoped that this night out would be entertaining for her. But he was quite positive that the upcoming act was sure to give her a chuckle.

"Here come the clowns." Jose pointed at the unfurling curtains.

A mass army of clowns entered the ring with their rolling balls, juggling pins and unicycles. Some were walking on stilts waving below at the audience while others went round playing jokes on unsuspected people. As the deafening organ music played, Henrietta couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. It was like smelling a decomposed body…or knowing that a child rapist was nearby to assault her. The clowns' colorful makeup was haunting with their blood painted lips and unusually exaggerated grin. It seemed all too surreal for her to stomach, not to mention their unnerving laugh. She was meant to enjoy this just like the other children, but why did she suddenly have these sick feelings? Even she couldn't figure out the reason herself.

"Are you feeling okay, Henrietta?" Jose wasn't blind to see the nervous expression on her face. "What's the matter?"

"Can we please leave? I'm not feeling very well."

A bypassing clown honked his horn right in Henrietta's ear, who jumped out of her seat in fright and grabbed Jose's jacket for dear life. Jose didn't know what to say about her reaction. He could already see the tears running down her cheeks, and it was clear that she didn't like clowns…let alone she was afraid of them. There was no reason why they needed to stay here any longer. It was getting late anyway…

"It's all right. Let's go home." Jose escorted her out of the tent while she buried her face in his shirt. She didn't want to see any more acts.

Jose never expected this to happen to Henrietta in a circus event. Even more so, he never knew she had so much resentment to clowns. Funny to say because he knew how much her friend Rico enjoyed them to bits. She would do absolutely anything to sit back and watch them for hours. It was too bad she was busy on a mission tonight…

…

Rico loaded the last clip into her Beretta. Her target had been running away from them for far too long. Who would have thought his tracks would lead Jean and herself straight into the very art academy where the famous Michelangelo's David stood? Rico took every step cautiously through the unlit hall, which seemed to stretch miles with its countless sculptural works. The only light that illuminated was the moonlight from the arched windows. Despite the seemingly peaceful atmosphere, she knew her target was hiding somewhere.

Jean would have greatly helped if he were here, but before they entered the building, he had made an order to split up and find the sneaky bastard separately. As cold as her handler was towards her, it was apparent that he wanted to see how self-reliant Rico could be in these situations. But nevertheless, he still kept to his responsibility over her.

There was no point in calling for him now, for that would merely expose herself to her target. It was hard to distinguish the shapes hidden under the blanket of shadows. Some of the statues looked well enough to be real. It would have been a shame if she mistakenly shot one of them and damaged their symbolic significance. But she swore she saw something shift between them. She hoped that she hadn't risked revealing herself, but her target was well aware of her presence, and was not afraid to taunt her…

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…ho…hee-hee…a-ha…ho…hee…ha-ha…aren't you rather young to be up this late playing cops and robbers all by yourself?" his grungy voice sent a chill down Rico's spine. She darted her eyes at every visible spot. No luck…he was indeed a good hider in the dark. "Little girls shouldn't be playing with guns. They're just too quick. How do you ever savor all those…little…emotions when you kill somebody, huh?"

Rico tightened her fingers on her gun, creeping slowly towards the statue of David. She could distinctly hear his voice emanating from behind it.

"You see, in their last few moments, people show you who they really are. Has that thought ever occurred to you? With each bullet you've put through every man's head, how do you ever distinguish those who had the balls, and those who were cowards? In a way, I knew my enemies better than you knew yours."

Rico hugged against the statue, sliding carefully towards the edge. Without further hesitation, she spun round, firing a bullet into a harmless tape recorder that she had been listening to. It was a trap…and she felt an icy breath blow at the back of her hair.

"Boo!" her target covered her face with a cloth soaked in chloroform. Rico dropped her gun, wrestling with the man and desperately trying to shake him off with a few elbows and kicks. But even her heightened strength wasn't enough to overpower him as her level of consciousness gradually declined. The last words she heard were: "Hush…it's all part of the plan."

…

"Rico…Rico!" Jean ran through the deserted hall. He knew something had happened when he heard gunfire. He feared the worst when Rico did not respond his calls. "Rico! Where are you? Answer me!"

He froze suddenly when he stepped on something hard under his shoe. Lifting his foot up, he found Rico's gun, and attached to it was a playing card. Jean picked it up for a closer inspection; it was a Joker card.

Something rattled from the ceiling, and Jean shot his eyes up to see what was coming. A shower of unpinned hand grenades plummeted down from an open ventilation shaft. Knowing the immediate danger he was in, Jean ran for the nearest window to escape before being blown into tiny pieces of ash. But he was still caught partly in the inevitable explosion that followed, as the massive force blew him right through the window as glass shards scraped his face and shredded his clothes.

He could barely stand up or shake a limb after his hard fall. His body was stinging like hell. All he could do was reach for his cell phone and dial for emergency backup. He could already taste his own blood…

"The mission has failed." he gasped under his breath, ignoring the sound of police sirens in the distance. "He's gotten away…and he's taken Rico."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: First and foremost, thank you for the reviews. I'd just like to point out that this story is intended to be short. I wasn't really planning on anything incredibly complex when it comes to the plot. I've also tried to keep everyone (especially the Joker) in character as much as possible. You're free to nitpick all you want, but I do apologize for any inaccuracies. I don't really have a great deal of time writing long winded stories, so that's why I choose to keep things simple and straight forward. I appreciate your understanding.

A special thanks to Hildebrant, for helping me whip up another twisted back story for the Joker. Keep it up with your stories, even if you don't seem to finish them (and don't worry, I still have stories that I've left dangling for years!).

Now on with the fic!

…

_**Why So Serious?**_

_**By Charles Xavier**_

…

**Part Two**

…

"_Wave to the camera, sweetheart! Yoo-hoo! Hoo-hoo-hoo!"_

_She refused._

"_Aw, come on. Buck up, and tell them your name."_

"_Rico…" answered the tied up girl on her chair._

"_And why are you here, Rico?"_

"…"

"_Don't be shy."_

"…"

"_Didn't your little big wig friends tell you to follow my tail? Weren't you trying to put a bullet through my unscrewed head, huh? You can tell me. You can tell me anything you want, because I'm your pal, isn't that right? Look at me, sweetheart."_

"…"

"_LOOK AT ME!"_

_Rico looked at him unsettlingly, as if forced to set eyes upon an ill man being dissected. It was her fear that he wanted to see. The shoddy camera shifted over to reveal the twisted cameraman's face._

"_So this is what I get from a poor girl with these so-called amazing mechanical implants. It'd be funny if it wasn't so pathetic. If you really want order in Italy, the Special Ops must cease their activities and shut down all their operations by midnight tonight. Oh, and if they don't, you can wave goodbye to your sweet little angel here as I snip off each one of her itty bitty toes. I'm a man of my word…OH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"_

…

"Lights." said Lorenzo.

"This video was sent to us this morning." Ferro waved the bloodstained tape to the members of Section 2. "We've been following his trail for several months now. He has no name, no alias, no family members and has been wanted by the CIA and FBI for his countless acts of terrorism. Last year, he fled to Italy from the US, allegedly involved with the Five Republics Faction and other mob dealers. Though these sources are unconfirmed, the chances are likely. Reports claim he was responsible for bombings in Palermo, Milan, Florence, Cagliari and Rome amongst other major cities. Recent rumors circulate that he's currently hiding in Venice. Where exactly we've yet to find out."

"Quite the traveler I see." said Alfonso, rubbing his chin. "Any reason for all that make-up he wears?"

"Probably to scare people." said Hilshire, frowning at the frozen image of the Joker on the projector screen. "You know how some people are deathly afraid of clowns. It must be his way of spreading fear upon his victims."

"Sounds like a very disturbed individual." said Olga.

"Jean is still in hospital. He barely made it out alive." said Lorenzo. "The freak nearly blew his damn skin off. He left his calling card, along with Rico's gun."

Ferro settled the gun on the table, attached with the Joker's card.

"We can't risk negotiating with him. Therefore, I am assigning the Triela-Hilshire and Henrietta-Jose fratelli on a special operation to find and rescue Rico. And if possible, put down this Joker for good. It won't be easy, but if we don't act now, a young life may be lost."

Jose wasn't feeling sure about this urgent mission. "Sir, if I may, as Henrietta's handler, I must inform the Section that she suffers from severe caulrophobia."

Everyone looked at him in shock.

"You can't be serious." exclaimed Priscilla.

Jose must have been pulling their leg. But even Lorenzo knew how he would never joke about her. Since the clock was ticking fast, time was short to sort out these personal matters. This was no bigger than Rico's life hanging by a thread.

"I'm sorry, Jose." Lorenzo sighed after deep consideration. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. Triela can't do this alone, and Angelica's still recovering in hospital from her last mission. Henrietta must go…remember that she's your responsibility. Be alert and stay cautious at all times. You'll have keep a sharp eye on her. Dismissed."

…

It was disturbingly quiet. Henrietta and Triela kept a close eye, ready to fire at any suspicious person on sight. Jose covered the girls as Hilshire steered the gondola soundlessly across the deserted canals of Venice. The area they had entered seemed like a ghost town, like it had been abandoned decades ago from a bomb raid. It almost felt haunted.

Hilshire feared they had lured themselves into a trap, but Jose insisted they continued further onwards as quietly as possible. There were no snipers, no gunmen…it seemed too easy for them. Though this was hardly the beginning of what awaited ahead.

Henrietta looked out at every ruined house, inspecting every empty window and doorway. Her eyes were peeled and she kept close watch. Triela tapped her shoulder, nudging her head at an old gothic cathedral at the end of the canal. That was their destination. That was where their target's hideout was supposed to be.

The gondola silently stopped and the team carefully got out and made their way towards the entrance.

"Are you okay, Henrietta?" Jose asked her. If he had told her anything about the Joker, she wouldn't have been up for this mission. As much help was needed to save Rico, and God only knows what unthinkable plans were in store for her if they ever failed.

"Yes, I'm fine." Henrietta nodded, opening up her violin case and taking out her submachine gun.

"Listen to me." Jose whispered in her ear. "It's important that you and I stick close together. Stay with me and don't hesitate whatsoever. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Be careful, Henrietta." said Triela, loading shells into her shotgun and practicing her aim. "This is our most delicate mission we're handling. These enemies have Rico and they can threaten to do anything to her."

"We don't have very much time left." said Hilshire, checking his watch. They had twenty-nine minutes until midnight. "Let's go in and move quickly!"

After pumping her shotgun, Triela nudged open the worn out door, letting out a loud creak. Surprisingly it was unlocked, but the noise must have surely attracted attention. They had to be extra cautious. The place was overwhelmingly dark and it was certainly run down. It was impossible to imagine living here, or even spending the night because of its depressing ambience.

Triela was the first to step inside, beckoning the rest of the team to follow. A few rats scurried away at their intruding guests. Besides them, there was no one here…just old broken benches covered in dust, an altar filled with cobwebs, a rusty pipe organ, melted candles and above them stood a bell tower stretching up to the heavens, along with a spiral staircase that looked unsafe.

Was this really where the Joker was hiding? They could only assume they would have better luck finding him up in the tower.

"You think he was expecting us?" Jose asked Hilshire.

"Maybe. Rico and the Joker must be here somewhere. We have to keep on our toes and stay on high alert. You never know if something might…"

Triela opened fire when she spotted a black figure rising out from underneath the benches. Not long after, a few more rose…and they were all armed. Henrietta helped her gun down several of them, taking a few minor hits. Jose and Hilshire ran for cover behind the marble pillars, watching the bullets fly past them by an inch. When chance allowed them, they cocked their guns and started firing back at the remaining gunmen.

"Looks like they were expecting us after all." said Hilshire.

The Joker's men were relentless and weren't going down without a good fight. Jose pulled out a smoke grenade from his pocket. Biting off the pin, he tossed it as far as he could at the enemies. An explosion…and a fog of smoke covered the battlefield. This was their chance for action.

"Hilshire, we can take care of the rest of them. Go and take Triela up to the tower." Jose said, continuing to fire away. "Hurry!"

There was no time to waste. Hilshire ordered Triela to follow him and they raced up the winding staircase as it wobbled with each forced step they made. It was beyond repair, but fortunately neither of them ended up falling off. At the very top was a locked door. Hilshire blasted a shell at the handle and kicked the door open.

She dropped to one knee, pointing her gun at the Joker, who stood unafraid with Rico entangled in his arms. He held a knife to her throat, and a Desert Eagle magnum in his other hand, pointed directly at Triela and her handler.

"Let her go." said Hilshire sternly.

"Sure…once you self-proclaimed rightful doers throw down your little toys and rip off your Section badges!" the Joker pointed his gun at the large window pane behind him, firing a bullet and shattering the glass to expose the full moon outside. He dragged Rico to the edge, dangling her with one arm and threatening to drop her.

Triela wanted to shoot, but her handler ordered her to hold fire. The Joker loved to play dangerously. Any missed shot would mean an accidental death.

"I said let her go!" Hilshire raised his voice.

"An unwise answer, and a very poor choice of words."

The Joker opened his hand and let Rico fall. Triela burst into fire at once and the shot scraped the Joker's left arm. The shock sent him firing his magnum in return, as he dived behind a pile of nearby crates. Hilshire ran and leaped out from the window, sliding down the slanted roof and grabbing Rico's wrist at the ledge before losing sight of her.

"I've got you!" he shouted, giving all his strength to pull her up. "Hang in there!"

"Oh, so you wanna play?" the Joker mumbled, sucking the blood from his jacket. It was merely a scratch for him. "Come on, come on, come on! Hit me, hit me, hit me!"

Triela loaded more shells into her shotgun. The Joker popped his head from behind the crates and drew his gun at her. Triela fired immediately…missing her shot while she received an incoming bullet right in her stomach. Her gun dropped out of her hands and she fell. She tried hastily to reach for it, pointing it at the approaching Joker. The Joker grabbed the weapon out from her hands and kicked her in the teeth, making her smash her head against the wall. She jumped to her feet and grabbed the Joker's arm, ready to dislocate it. But the Joker elbowed her in the nose, making her lose the chance. He punched her in the eye, leaving a severe bruise. He yanked her ponytail hair, delivering more punches to her face. Triela retaliated by kicking him in the crotch, which sent the Joker staggering back in pain.

"A little fight in you." he grinned in pleasure and pain, secretly grabbing a crowbar from an open crate behind him. "I like that. I'm going to enjoy this immensely!"

She didn't see it coming. The Joker smacked her with his new weapon, sending her to the ground. Triela tried desperately to get up, but was pounded on the head too fast before she could react. A red puddle appeared beside her. Another strike on her forehead, leaving a much bloodier concussion. The Joker beat her senselessly without any remorse as he fractured her skull. He couldn't find any better enjoyment in it. Hearing his victim's merciful cries was all but sweet music to his ears. It was like listening to Beethoven's classical 9th Symphony over and over again. How blissful a sight it was to see Triela's battered head. What could be more beautiful to him than that?

The Joker was ready to strike his final blow, that was until the door burst open behind him. Henrietta fired her gun and packed her bullets through him. The Joker jerked forward, leaning against a pillar as he discovered there were holes in his shirt, gushing out blood. He smiled…and burst into laughter, tossing his crowbar aside.

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…oh-ho-ho-hee-hee!"

Henrietta prepared to fire again, but then her target turned round to reveal himself. She saw his grotesquely painted lips, his alarmingly pale face, his filthy blackened eyes and his green scruffy hair. The sickening fear seeped in. The terrifying clown found only amusement in his bullet wounds, and Henrietta froze nervously as a sweat drop ran down her ear.

"Now there's a face I remember."

The Joker licked the blood from his lips and limped towards her. Henrietta raised her gun, forcing him to stay back, but it didn't help. The fear inside of her grew worse with every step he took, and she was starting to feel overpowered.

Jose sensed she was in trouble when there was an absence of gunfire. Hiding near the doorway, he peeked his eyes in, and saw something wet running down Henrietta's bare legs, soaking her socks and shoes.

"Aw…" the Joker pretended to sympathize with the petrified child after he realized that Henrietta had urinated herself, leaving an messy stain on her skirt. Her gun slipped out of her shaking hands. She collapsed on her knees, recoiling back against the wall away from the bleeding clown. She crouched into a fetal position, hiding her tearful face from her enemy. The Joker knelt down at her, stroking her hair with comfort. "…oh, shoosh, shoosh, shoosh. There's no need to be nervous. Is it because of my scars? Do you wanna know how I got them?"

The Joker picked out a knife from his pocket, grasping Henrietta's jaw and sticking the blade inside of her mouth.

"So you see, I was once a quiet little kid growing up, just like you. Didn't say anything or smile much at all around anyone. So one day this bully, he doesn't like it that I'm so quiet. He doesn't like how I don't kiss up to him like all his other sycophantic friends do. He says if I don't start being nicer around him, then he'd make me. So the next day, he sticks a broken bottle in my mouth, and cuts my face like this. And as I kneel there bleeding on the ground, he asks me: why so serious…WHY SO SERIOUS?"

The mood was suddenly broken when Jose jumped out from the doorway and aimed his gun at the Joker's temple at point blank range. The Joker reacted fast, grabbing Jose's arm and swinging the gun away as it fired. With this distraction, he stabbed his knife into Jose's arm. The penetration was deep and Jose fell back. But just when the Joker thought he had the upper hand, somebody whacked him from behind his head. Triela swung the crowbar left and right, hoping to give the Joker the same beating she suffered. He slipped out a hidden knife from under his sleeve, but Triela smacked it out of his hand before he could use it. She swung again, but the Joker grabbed the crowbar. The two of them wrestled until the Joker snatched the weapon out of her hands and struck her in the face, making her lose her balance and fall onto a crate.

Jose reached his arm out for his gun. The Joker interrupted, stepping on his hand and making him squeal. This did not pass Henrietta's attention, when she opened her eyes to witness the Joker dragging her handler across the splintered floor. He kicked him ferociously, spitting on him with his taunts:

"Hit me! Throw me a punch!" the Joker grinned, exposing his yellow stained teeth. "So you people think you've made Italy a better place? You know there's no way evading the truth: the only sensible way to live in this world is without rules. And without rules, there can only be chaos. And I'm an agent of chaos." he placed his shoe hard against his chest and crushing his ribcage which caused him to shout excruciatingly. "And you know the thing about chaos, right? It's fair."

He wanted to crush each and every one of his bones, but then he felt a child's hand tug his jacket and a cold blade plunge through his back. A furious Henrietta couldn't allow what the Joker was doing, she would never forgive him for it.

"Oh-ho-ho-ho! Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" the Joker staggered away, laughing uncontrollably as he struggled to pull the knife off from his back. "You just couldn't let the poor man die, could you?"

She couldn't tolerate any more of his words. Still in rage, Henrietta ran at the Joker, pushing him right out of the window.

"AH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"

The Joker's last laugh echoed as he dropped from the tower, diving into the murky waters with a fierce splash.

Hilshire and Rico saw it all happen as they sat safely by the ledge. They gazed up to find Henrietta standing at the window looking down at them, relieved that both of them were alive. She threw a rope down at them, helping them to climb up.

Hilshire found Jose beside Triela, who was barely conscious from the savage fight. "Triela!" he rushed to her in panic, horrified to see her in such terrible condition. "Triela, is she all right?"

"She's still breathing." replied Jose. "We have to get her to a doctor as soon as possible."

Their mission was complete. Rico was now safe in their hands. Jose left Triela under her handler's care and joined Henrietta, who still remained by the window, her eyes staring blankly across the gorgeous view of Venice. He wasn't sure what crossed Henrietta's mind when she first met eyes with the Joker. Was it merely encountering her fear of clowns again, or was it something far worse than that? But regardless, nothing seemed to stand in her way of her feelings for Jose.

"It's time to leave, Henrietta. We're finished here."

The emotionless Henrietta obeyed, following her handler out of the cathedral. On her way out, she noticed the head of a gargoyle grinning down at her. There was nothing odd about it, but she couldn't help wondering…

What was he laughing at?

…

Author's Note: Okay, one more part to go! I may leave a surprise ending next, so do look out for it!


	3. Chapter 3

_**Why So Serious?**_

_**By Charles Xavier**_

…

**Part Three**

…

Henrietta stared outside into the snowfields, watching the snowflakes gather at her window. Winter had come to Italy and it seemed so quiet at this time of Christmas. Celebrations at Section 2 were mild to say the least, but they still retained that holiday cheer. She was told that families gather round at home to spend quality time together, but Henrietta didn't have a family…not any more. She couldn't remember any faces…only the blurry image of a clown's face, smiling maliciously to mock her.

"You look unhappy." said Claes. She knew something was troubling her. "Another unfortunate memory?"

Henrietta shook her head. "I want to be happy, but I can't for some reason. I want to smile, but something's holding me back. I don't know what it is."

Claes wiped her glasses, thinking about Henrietta's words. She couldn't help but wonder what her life was like before she joined the Agency. There was no point asking her about it. Those memories were gone…like the snow melting at sunrise.

"I guess we all feel the same way sometimes." she said, with thoughts of Raballo rushing through her mind. "Merry Christmas, Henrietta."

…

Hilshire wished his Christmas with Triela would be a treat for both of them. Instead, he was forced to sit beside her bed as she napped peacefully, recovering from her fatal injuries. A knock came from the door. Jose stepped inside, greeting his friend and pulling up a chair.

"Bianchi says she'll make it. But we need to let her rest for a few more days."

He was glad to hear that. Watching over Triela in her critical state reminded Hilshire too much of her unspeakable past.

"We couldn't find the Joker's body. I'm sorry, Hilshire. We should have come to Triela's help sooner before he had the chance."

"It's all right." said Hilshire coldly, taking out an old crumpled photo from his pocket. "Triela's been through a hell lot worse punishment than this. You should have been when I first set my eyes upon her. She barely looked alive…her life was hanging by a thread. We were informed that this man may have had a part in the child smuggling incident in Amsterdam. And it was true…I tried chasing the bastard down, but he slipped right out of my fingers and got away."

"Who was he?" Jose had to ask.

Hilshire passed the photo over to him, only to get the goose bumps at first sight. The man he referred to appeared hideously deformed, and almost as horribly demented as the Joker. His face could scare children and even adults to death. He had neither a nose nor lips. The dreadful stare in his eyes left Jose discomforted. There was no question that he'd be the man behind Triela's dark history of abuse, torture and mutilation…not to mention nearly driving her to the brink of death.

His name, as printed below, was Roman Sionis.

…

**The End**

…

Author's Note: I may leave this open for a sequel, but I'm not sure. Should Henrietta continue her pursuit for the Joker, or should I shift focus on Triela getting her revenge on Mr. You-Might-Know-Who? I'll leave that up for readers to decide. Merry Christmas, everyone!


End file.
